o burn. I guess we'll be able to make our own sunshine in
a few minutes."

Samson peeled some bark and repaired the roof and, with his flint and
tinder and some fat pine, built a roaring fire against the rock and soon
had his family sitting, in its warm glow, under shelter. Near by was
another rude framework of poles set in crotches partly covered with bark
which, with a little repairing, made a sufficient shelter for Pete and
Colonel. Down by a little brook a few rods away he cut some balsams and
returned presently with his arms full of the fragrant boughs. These he
dried in the heat of the fire and spread in a thick mat on the ground
under the lean-to. It was now warm with heat, reflected from the side of
the great rock it faced. The light of the leaping flames fell upon the
travelers.

"Ye see ye can make yer own weather and fill it with sunshine if ye only
know how," said Samson, as he sat down and brushed a coal out of the
ashes and swiftly picked it up with his fingers and put it into the bowl
of his clay pipe. "Mother and I read in a book that the wood was full o'
sunlight all stored up and ready for us to use. Ye just set it afire and
out comes the warm sunlight for days like this. God takes pretty good
care of us--don't He?"

The heat of other fires had eaten away a few inches of the base of the
rock. Under its overhang some one had written with a black coal the words
"Bear Valley Camp." On this suggestion the children called for a bear
story, and lying back on the green mat of boughs, Samson told them of the
great bear of Camel's Hump which his father had slain, and many other
tales of the wilderness.

They lived two days in this fragrant, delightful shelter until the storm
had passed and the last of their corn meal had been fed to the horses.
They were never to forget the comfort and the grateful odors of their
camp in Bear Valley.

On a warm, bright day in the sand country after the storm they came to a
crude, half finished, frame house at the edge of a wide clearing. The
sand lay in drifts on one side of the road. It had evidently moved in the
last wind. A sickly vegetation covered the field. A ragged, barefooted
man and three scrawny, ill clad children stood in the dooryard. It was
noon-time. A mongrel dog, with a bit of the hound in him, came bounding
and barking toward the wagon and pitched upon Sambo and quickly got the
worst of it. Sambo, after much experience in self-defense, had learned
that th